Carpe Diem
by FireLily
Summary: Interesting, one of my better stories. Summary: The spoiled prince Corren is becoming all too annoying to his friend Tom. But a new presence in his life in the form of a servant may change his life forever... (lousy summary) R/R--PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
1. Chapter One

  


Part One

*

Prince Corren of Conte was vexed!

His servant—Brenum—had suddenly decided to go get _married _of all things, and now Corren (better known as Corr to his friends) was left without a manservant! 

Corr decided _he _was going to complain. Well, after classes ended, at least…

*

"What do you _mean_, there are no servants?"

Salma looked at the annoyed youth and shrugged:

"I told you, Highness. We need new recruits, and there isn't anyone to be found. Suddenly a lot of people want live-in servants."

"_Please_, Salma, I'll do _anything!_ Just please give me a servant!"

Salma was hesitant, but she replied, "There is _one _person that is free…"

With this Corr dropped to his knees and tugged on the hem of her black skirt, desperate. He was too used to having servants to take care of him to think about what it would be like without one, and he didn't think he would like the notion of not having one anyway.

"Please, Salma!" Corr repeated. "I'll take him! What's his name, anyhow?"

"Joey. Can you wait until tomorrow?"

"Yes… I think so." Corr wasn't sure he could last that long, but as the saying went, Better late than never. He stood.

"You know, Highness, there's something you should know about Joey…"

But Corr was already out the door. He needed to do his homework still!

*

"Corr, you know, servants aren't everything," said Thomas of Greenroot, Corr's best friend. Corr glared at him.

"I _need _a servant, okay? Need you harass me for it?"

"One word," Tom muttered. "One word, and he chews me out."

"Shut up, Tom."

"Look, fine, all right. You can moan about your new servant all you want, how he won't be fit, how he won't know what to do, all that stuff. But the fact remains that servants are humans, too!"

"I know!" snapped Corr. "What did you think they were, mules?"

"I knew they weren't, but that doesn't say the same for you! I saw the way you treated Brenum! You took him entirely for granted! 'Oh, Brenum, I need a towel,' or 'Oh, Brenum! My pillow needs to be fluffed!" Why do you think we're enduring Wyldon? Because we want to? Mithros guide me, no! Because we want to be knights, that's why! And what do knights do? They are _tough_! They don't ask for warmer water because they're cold!"

The lengthy comment earned Tom a piercing sapphire glare from Corr, who was not happy with being scorned. 

_Spoiled you, has the king? _thought Tom impetuously. _I never thought Jonathan and Thayet of all people would spoil their son. I suppose wonders never cease._

Tom was thoroughly tired of arguing, being a mild-tempered youth whose temper took great effort to raise. After just a few arguments, he was already exhausted of the process. Comebacks weren't difficult, just tiresome, and quarrels he felt were needless. Corr, on the other hand, had a hot temper and was easily angered. These facts made for a most interesting friendship…

"Look, Corr," Tom said wearily, rubbing his hazel eyes, "let's just call it quits. You know I don't like arguing."

"Too late, Tom," Corr replied icily. "You've made your statement." He spun and marched off to his room. Tom gathered that he wouldn't be seeing him at study group that night, from the looks of it.

_What he needs is someone who won't let him always get his way, _Tom reflected, _but that doesn't look like that's going to happen anytime soon…_

But Tom was wrong. The answer to his troubles was much closer than he thought.

Much closer.

*

Corr unlocked the door and let himself in, angered with Tom and still steaming. _How could he say that to me? _asked Corr. Deep down he knew he had said much worse to Tom at one point or another, but as we all know, to judge yourself is naught but the hardest task of all. So he blamed it on Tom. And when there was someone to blame, Corr got mad. (Though not quite as much as when there wasn't anyone to blame.) So, to summarize in three words, he was mad.

It didn't help matters when he saw there was a person standing in his room. A girl, to be precise. He couldn't see her face because she was standing with her back towards him, pouring something into a mug. He hadn't even known he had a mug in his room.

"Hello," he said rudely. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm your servant," the girl informed him, still not turning. "Would you like tea?"

"_What?_" Corr was startled.

"Would. You. Like. Tea?"

"I heard you the first time."

"Obviously not. You still haven't answered."

The girl turned and faced him, resting her back against the table.

"What are you talking about?" Corr asked.

"Bit slow on the uptake, aren't you?" the girl commented mildly. She stepped forward and held out her hand. "Joanna Lightsdale, at your—well, not really at your service, but since that's what we're supposed to say… anyhow. Joanna Lightsdale."

Corr stuttered out a reply: "I'm—I'm—"

"Prince Corren of Conte," finished Joanna. "I know."

"How do you—"

"You really _are _slow, aren't you?" She was almost admiring, amazed even, her voice laced with contempt, but at the same time, awe. It sounded as if she had never met someone with a slow wit… though Corr wasn't slow, just surprised and fooled into muteness.

Corr chose not to answer the question, and instead examined the girl.

She was pretty, quite so, even. Her light brown hair was streaked with blond, wound into a simple knot, and the curls that dangled around her heart-shaped face were decidedly golden. Blue-green eyes, the color of the sea with sun shining on it, contrasted with her lightly tanned skin and matched the turquoise gemstone hanging around her neck. Her slender figure was skinnier than was normal for a girl of her age, which was about sixteen—two years younger than he—but it was almost invisible under her long creamy shirt and long black skirt—the standard uniform of the servants.

"Hello? Prince?"

Corr looked up at her suddenly. "What?" His tone was as rude as it had been initially.

She squinted her eyes, as if in thought, before saying something: "I know! You're one of _that _kind of people, aren't you?" A flash of realization crossed her face.

Corr was about to ask what she meant when she swept a curtsy, wobbling slightly but not much.

"Your Royal Highness Prince," she said with a bow of her head.

"What?"

Corr was used to this treatment, but the spitfire he had met two moments ago hardly seemed the type to address him formally, much less curtsy.

Joanna stood.

"Look," she told him, exasperated. "I'm your servant. Here to serve. Hence the name, servant. My name is Joanna Lightsdale. Do you understand now?"

Corr was shocked. "They said—they said _Joey_ was coming!"

Joanna rolled her eyes. "I _am _Joey. It's a nickname! I mean, Joanna isn't my favorite name, you know…"

"So you're a girl!"

"No, idiot, I'm a boy. I just _look _like a girl. Sure… oh! They didn't tell you?"

"Not really."

Joey burst out laughing, then quickly stifled her giggles with a hand. "Sorry, Highness," she said once she had composed herself. "But you have to admit… it is amusing."

"Why? All you have to do is walk out the door and neither of us will be troubled again." Corr was quickly regaining his senses, and the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with a pretty female servant.

Joey shook her head and perched herself on the table, a serious look replacing her earlier dry smile.

"It's not that easy," she told him. "I signed a contract, and besides, I'm on probation as a servant. They won't let me go for at least a month. You're kind of my… example, if you won't take that the wrong way. And besides, there aren't any more servants. From what Salma tells me, you want a servant very badly. Well, you won't get one if you get rid of me."

Corr furrowed his brow in thought. Joey made a good point…

"Fine," he said shortly. "You can stay."

"Thanks ever so, Highness." The bitter tone had returned. "I'm sure I'm flattered. Even though you'll toss me out as soon as I make the tiniest mistake."

"What?"

"I know your kind. I'm not blind. You think servants are _mules_." She spat out the word as if it was something vile.

"Have you been talking to Tom?"

"Who's Tom?"

"Never mind. Why do you think I think servants are mules?"

An eyebrow arched grandly. "I don't think, darling. I _know_."

"Then why do you think I know you think—I mean, why do you know I think you know—I mean—" Corr stumbled over the sentence.

Joey laughed and dismounted the table:

"Darling, don't argue with me. Even if you are royalty, your pureblooded behind couldn't make the better of me. I advise you to learn how to keep your tongue… and your wits… about you. That is, if you don't want to be sliced from head to toe."

"You don't know how to wield a sword! Do you?"

"I'm sure I could learn." Her smile held mischief. "And besides, daggers work just as well… and I'm an expert with those. So I would tread _very _carefully if I were you."

"I'm a knight in training!" Corr protested.

A devilish grin:

"And I'm ex-Rogue. We learn a lot of fighting, on the streets and all. So, like I said, tread carefully."

"But—but—I mean—"

"You certainly have a limited vocabulary." 

Joey reached for the mug of steaming tea and dumped it into Corr's mouth, down his throat. He choked on it, and she gave him a few hefty lugs on his back.

"Thanks," he managed to say sourly, coughing. "Thanks so much."

Joey flashed him a smile. "Glad I could be of help. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take your laundry to the washers. Goodbye!"

She grabbed a burlap bag of dirty clothes and left, Corr staring after her.

"Oh, great," he muttered. "Just great."

*

Hm. That was okay. Do you like it? I promise I'll continue if you do. I worked hard on the plot (sort of), so I'll def continue. Erm… there will also be a sequel to the saga, if you want. And the things I have planned are very interesting…

Well! Review. Right down there in the box. Please? Thanks!!!!!!!

~FireLily the Not-So-Great, Completely Insane, and Incredibly Tired


	2. Chapter Two

_Carpe Diem_ Part Two

Joey returned fifteen minutes later to see Corr bending over an ink-stained sheet of paper.

"Homework?" she asked. Corr nodded and she continued, "Good. I'm glad to hear your teachers make you do _something_."

Corr glared at her.

"Is it even in your nature to shut up?" he inquired. Even after only twenty minutes of her servitude, he had the feeling his judgment of her was correct—she was a proper pain in the rear end.

"No," replied Joey. She chewed on a strand of blond hair, thinking. "Nope," she decided at last. "Definitely not."

"That's an awful habit, you know," Corr told her, motioning at the piece of hair.

"Yes, I know." Joey kept sucking it. "So?"

"So, you really shouldn't do it."

"And…?"

"Well…" Corr trailed off.

"Why is it your concern if I suck my hair?"

"Well, I was just _saying_…"

"I know you were saying, but what you were saying is really more of my concern," said Joey.

"I thought it wasn't my concern."

"It's not! It's mine!"

"Why are we fighting over whose concern it is?"

"Because—because you started it!"

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"SHUT UP!" they yelled at each other. Joey rolled her eyes and pushed the hair she had been chewing back again.

"You know," Corr said thoughtfully, "usually servants are nice and _obedient._"

Joey poked her tongue out at him before hurling a small rock statue at him. Corr tipped to one side and fell off his chair. The statue bounced off the wall behind him.

"What was that for?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing his head where it had hit the floor.

"That," said Joey, "was for insulting me. And it was for acting like servants are pigs!"

"I thought it was mules," muttered Corr. "Where did pigs come in?"

Joey heard him:

"You're the pig, idiot!"

"Now I'm an idiot?"

"Arrrgh!" Joey threw up her hands. "Why are you so stupid? You nobles are supposed to be smart!"

"We are?"

Joey hit herself with the heel of her hand and shook her head hard, sending a pin rocketing out. It hit Corr on the forehead with the force of a well-thrown pebble.

"What is with you and throwing things?" Corr groaned. "I mean, really!"

"Oh, just shut up!"

"Why don't you?"

"I'm going to bed!"

"It's not even half past yet!"

"So?"

"Are you, like, weird or something?"

"No more than you!"

"I'm not weird!"

"Oh, yes you are!"

"Just leave me alone!"

"I will if you will!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Corr marched out the doorway, slamming the heavy wooden door behind him. Joey winced as the metal clanged into place, then made a face at the closed door.

*

[the next morning]

Tom had decided, after a night of Corr not talking to him, that he was tired of ignoring him. Usually they only stayed mad at each other for a few hours, but not now.

Besides, Tom had the vague feeling Corr was bothered about something. Last night he hadn't been as lively as he normally was amongst their group… several of his other friends had noticed, too. Tom wasn't too worried, but he _was_ curious.

Stepping into Corr's room, Tom immediately noted something was wrong. Corr's homework papers were neatly stacked, and with the urge to examine them Tom found that they were also tidily done, no cross-outs or ink blots. It was unheard of, especially for Corr.

Rounding the corner into the more spacious part of Corr's chambers, Tom found someone sitting on a chair, legs flung over the sides, reading.

More correctly, the someone was a girl.

Tom grinned, and the girl looked up.

"Hello," she said. "Daresay he should be going down to breakfast? I had forgotten. I'm Joey."

Tom suppressed a grin as he turned to Corr's bed.

"Oi! Corr! There's a girl in your room!"

Corr rolled over sleepily and muttered a drowsy reply:

"I _know_. She's my servant."

The girl, Joey, shook her head and got out of the chair, walking over to Tom.

"No, no, no. That's not how you do it. Look."

She bent over Corr, positioning her lips over his ear.

"WAKE UP, YOU BIG LAZY SAD EXCUSE FOR AN OVERGROWN HAIRY APE'S REAR END!"

Corr jumped out of bed, startled. Joey smirked at him, and he scowled in response. Meanwhile, Tom was looking from him to her to him to her and back again.

"She's," Tom said disbelievingly, "your _servant?_"

"Yes," said Joey cheerfully. "Got a problem?"

"No. She's your servant?"

"Yes!" chorused Corr and Joey, each with a tone of disgust.

"But—but—she's a girl!" Tom was shocked.

"You are _very _observant," Joey said. "Yes, I am a girl. Would you like tea?"

"And he's a boy!"

"Very good, genius. Tea?"

"So she's not taken?" Tom asked Corr.

"Not by me, she's certainly not!"

"Tea?"

"She's open?"

"WHAT IS IT WITH YOU MEN AND TEA?"

The two boys turned to Joey, who was smiling innocently.

"Tea?"

Didja like it, hm? I'll continue. But I'm really itching to start on the sequel. Except that will be a problem, since there would be major spoilers in it. See, the sequel is a story about someone else, but they have a _very _interesting relationship with Joey and Corr… hm. Well, anyway, did you like the story?

~FireLily the Not-So-Great and Completely Insane


	3. Chapter Three

_Carpe Diem_, Part Three

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Author's Note: This story is moving very quickly because there is another story I really, really want to write but can't write until I finish this because of spoilers. If you don't want this rushed, then tell me so in your review and I'll write the other one anyway. 

P.S. – please tell me what you think will happen. That way, if everyone already suspects it, then it won't matter if I write the next one or not. But I will tell you that the next one is about someone who has a very interesting "thing" about her…

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

[Note: This takes place two days later.]

"Could you stop that?" Corr demanded, glaring at Joey. Two days of her hadn't changed his attitude at all—unless it was for the worse.

"Stop what?" Joey asked innocently.

"You _know _what I _mean_."

"I do? How strange. I could have sworn I didn't."

"Shutting up is good for the soul," remarked Corr.

"In your case, most definitely."

"I was talking about Y-O-U."

"My! You certainly are smart, spelling 'you.' Let's see. Can you spell 'cat,' too?"

"Shut. Up."

"One word sentences. Interesting concept, but I don't prefer it. Scholars usually like complex sentences better. Complex is spelled C-O-M-P-L-E-X, and it means—"

"I know what complex means!"

Joey feigned surprise, widening her sea-colored eyes.

"You do? You must be very smart, then…"

"Just shut up!"

"Do you know any other words? I've been wondering."

"Please," said Corr through gritted teeth, "be quiet."

"Now, I've been wondering…"

"Yes?" Corr expected an insult, so he wasn't surprised. Joey balanced herself on a chair next to the table.

"Do all your lovers care if you only have limited intelligence?" 

Corr slapped her, hard. He was annoyed, and the nudge at his "lovers" had steamed him.

Joey touched her cheek quickly, then brought her hand down again to rest on the table. She stood.

"You deserved it," Corr told her, almost in a whisper.

"I know," Joey said, "but you deserve far worse."

"Why would that be?" His tone was serious, not joking.

"Because you act as if I know nothing," responded Joey. Her eyes were lit with a strange fire. "And in reality, I know more of life than you could ever learn. You know books, but books mean nothing. You know arts, but arts mean nothing. Tell me," she said, leaning down, "when was the last time you lived?"

Corr was not enough of an idiot to reply with a "What do you mean? I'm living now!" or a "How stupid _are _you?" He knew what she meant—and he admitted she was right.

"Truce," he said, more in question than statement.

"We can't keep going on like this," admitted Joey, gazing at him. Hesitantly she agreed: "Truce."

They shook on it.

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

Well, that wasn't very good. Oh well. Bye! And please review!

~FireLily


	4. Chapter Four

_Carpe Diem_ Part Four

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[Next day. Yes, I know I'm having lots of time jumps. Oh well.]

Corr threw down his quill and tossed aside a piece of crumpled paper—his twenty-ninth. Joey had been counting.

"What are you writing, anyhow?" asked Joey, curious. 

"Don't you have chores to do?" Corr snapped. 

Joey shook her head and came over in her typical fluid movements.

"The History of the Kings of the Rogue?" she inquired, reading the title of the thick book in front of Corr. He turned toward her.

"Yeah, so?"

"Do you know anything about the Rogue, let alone the King?"

"Erm… they live in the city?" tried Corr. "The King rules them?"

"You are not going to get a good grade on this," stated Joey. She unfolded one of his mistakes and read it: "This is utter and absolute trash," she noted.

"Like you could do better?"

"Probably could," she said with a grin. "Darling, there's more to me than you think."

"Are you hitting on me?" Corr asked disbelievingly.

Joey snorted. "In your _dreams_. I wouldn't hit on you if you were the last man on earth."

"What I was the last thing?"

Joey shook her head, saying, "Isn't it time for dinner or something?"

"No."

"Shouldn't you meet Tom or something?"

"No. Oh, I see, you want to get rid of me."

"Thank you, Mr. Intelligent. Yes, I really would like to get rid of you. Indeed, you _are _smart!"

"Shut up."

"Truce, truce, truce!"

"Don't remind me," grunted Corr. "Fine, I'll go."

"Good idea! Besides," Joey pointed out, "dinner starts in ten minutes."

"I'm going already!"

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

Corr decided to go study with Tom and the others after dinner. He'd just have to do the Rogue paper early in the morning: Joey could wake him up.

Thus, he got into the room at ten, twenty minutes before curfew. Joey was in bed—and a fifteen-page report was on the table. Corr looked at the title.

_Kings of the Rogue: Sanderson to Smith and Everyone In Between_

Corr looked at Joey and decided she definitely wasn't asleep.

"Joey? What is this?"

Joey rolled over:

"Your report. I faked your handwriting."

"Is it real?"

"You mean, is the information true? Yes, it is. I think I should know about the Rogue."

"Were you in it?"

Joey sat up and answered him, "Yes, I was. I have been since I was five. And I can prove it."

Kicking off the covers, she rolled up her sleeve. Firmly imprinted in red on her upper arm was the mark of Rogue.

"See?" Joey said quietly. "I told you I was ex-Rogue."

"Did they kick you out?"

Joey laughed bitterly. "Kick me out? I was the best in all of them at daggers, except Smith."

"Smith?"

"Look at your report. Jakon Smith has been the King for the past eleven years. He became King just before I joined, and before him was Canden, and before Canden was George Cooper. Now Baron of Pirate's Swoop."

"How did you get out, if they didn't kick you out? I thought the Rogue was a life-long thing."

"It is. Smith and I were… friends. A few favors and I was able to go."

Corr was silent.

"What were the favors?"

"Nothing you need to know. And not anything of that sort. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Corr at least knew when a topic was closed.

Silence for about five minutes.

"Thank you, Joey," he whispered. He didn't expect a reply. She seemed asleep.

"You're welcome, Corr."

_At least we're on a first name basis._

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

Well, hope you liked it. So long, now. And please don't forget to REVIEW!!!

~FireLily


	5. Chapter Five

_Carpe Diem_, Part Five

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[Yes, another time jump. Three weeks later.]

Corr had gotten his—rather, Joey's—report back four days after he had turned it in with a hastily written "Excellent, you have real knowledge of the topic. Perfect!" scrawled at the top in blue ink. Corr was increasingly becoming more amazed at Joey. She was nothing like anything he had expected. Or, as Tom put it—

"You have a crush on her."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. I don't blame you, though. She's an absolute—"

"Tom, you say one word and you are instantly decapitated."

"—ly annoying jerk?"

"Rather."

"You still have a crush on her."

Corr was trying to ignore this accusation—perhaps because he was afraid it was true—and that wasn't so hard, as he had another, more pressing problem:

"Four days."

Corr had walked in on Joey packing and asked her why.

"Four days 'til what?"

"'Til my probation ends. I suppose I won't get kicked out, since you haven't complained."

"You're leaving?"

"Rather obviously. Besides, I have to. It's not going to be easy to convince them to let me stay. Not that I especially want to."

"You don't like me?"

Joey stifled a short laugh:

"Let's see. You're an egotistical, self-driven, independent, annoying, stupid, idiotic, self-satisfied, empty-headed prig…"

"Am I really all that?"

"…Despite that, you do deserve a chance."

"Am I really all that?" repeated Corr.

"Yes," came Joey's short reply. "You are. Maybe you should start losing some of it."

"And end up as…?"

"A person with a servant. And a lover."

"My servant's going to be my lover?"

"Not in this lifetime. I meant that as two different people."

"Oh."

"Disappointed, are we?" Joey's tone was teasing. "Did you want me to be your lover?"

"Did you want me to not be?"

Corr took a tentative step towards Joey. She turned back to her packing. 

"Don't, Corr. Please don't."

Corr stopped. She was right. _Why am I doing this? _he asked himself. _Why am I falling for her?_

"Do I have time to repent for my sins?" inquired Corr, a laughing tone in his voice. Joey smiled, spinning quickly on her heel to face him.

"Four days."

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

"Joey?"

Joey jumped. It was only five in the morning. She didn't expect Corr to be awake for nearly an hour.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Corr said gently.

"For what?"

"For being such a jerk."

"You're not a jerk."

"I'm not?"

"You're just an idiot." Joey poured water into a kettle.

"Thanks," said Corr dryly. "And are you making tea again?"

"No," answered Joey absently. "I'm making a hot water bottle."

"For me?"

"No. For me."

"Oh. Okay. See ya."

"Go to sleep, Corr."

"I will."

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

Ooch. That royally stank. Stunk. Whatever. The next one will be interesting. And romantic! In a way, at least. So long!

~FireLily


	6. Chapter Six

_Carpe Diem_, Part Six

_ _

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_ _

_Everyday is something new_

_That I'm just not used to_

_Givin' me a whole new outlook_

_ _

_Everyday I wonder why_

_Wondering with a sigh_

_Was it my love you took_

_ _

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

_ _

_Four days. _

The words echoed in Corr's head harshly, making him fall into a dreamlike stance in classes. His head was spinning and there was some type of regret that pulsed in all of his thoughts.

_Tom was right_, Corr realized sadly in Mathematics. _I do have a crush on her._

He wasn't supposed to do this—fall for his servant. It was strictly forbidden, an unspoken rule of protocol. And the reason no one ever spoke it was because no one ever thought that anyone would dare love a lower class. Especially a servant—boys weren't even supposed to _have_ female servants! What was _wrong _with him?

So when Tom proposed a fencing match after classes, Corr readily agreed, if only to get his mind off the impending dilemma of Joey. Tom always won; there was no point, really, in playing a "game" that you always lost. _Just like there's no point in playing a game of love you can't win, _Corr noted. He hit himself hard for that comment, idiotic as it was.

As he was putting on his practice padding, Corr remembered that he had left his fencing gloves in the room when he had gotten lunch. Thick, heavy, and lined with mail, they were meant to make it feel as if the person was wearing armor. Caught not wearing them, Corr would be put to punishment work. He swore and pulled off the padding, racing back to his room. Tom had started a mock battle with Jackin of Hillsbough, anyway—Corr would have plenty of time to retrieve his things.

Walking towards the room, Corr could tell something was not right. The door was ajar and noise was emitting from it. Violent noise.

He kicked the door open and drew his sword—

Joey was standing in the middle of the room, dagger in hand. Her opponent was a burly man in his early thirties with a sword, the kind of brute who had muscles where his brain was—or rather, was not. Joey's shirt was torn down the middle, revealing a lot of scratched, bloody skin, and her skirt was _nearly_ in the same condition.

"Joey?" Corr asked uncertainly.

"Hello, Corr. Your fencing gloves are on the table, if you wanted them. I thought you might be coming for them." She took careful aim and threw the dagger. It landed in the man's shoulder, but he pulled it out quickly and tossed it aside.

"Oh, great," breathed Joey. The man advanced, pinning her against the wall.

"Toss the pot, wouldya, Corr?" For the first time, Joey had reverted to common speech.

Corr felt his hand fall on a metal object. He threw it to Joey.

"The little darling's only got a kettle, now looky there," the man said, grinning toothlessly. "Well, guess I've got the advantage here…"

"Sorry, but you really don't," said Joey with an innocent smile. "See?" She crashed the pot into his head, landing him a broken nose and jaw. He fell to the ground.

"Sword, please," Joey requested. Corr handed it to her, and she balanced it at the base of the man's throat.

"I'm going to report you to the Goddess's warriors," Joey said, "if you don't get out of here in three seconds. One… Two…" The man dodged the swordpoint and charged out of the hall. Joey wiped her bloody hands on her skirt, even though it wasn't really in much better of a condition, and turned to Corr.

"Well, get your glove," she prompted. He instead pushed her onto the bed.

"Ouch!"

"Sit still!"

"I am! Could you give me some air instead of trying to kill me? Oh, dammit."

Joey had looked down at her clothes and evidently realized they were in a state of… well… disarray would be an incredible understatement.

"Don't get any ideas," she warned Corr. Before he could ask what she meant, she had pulled her shirt over her head.

"What are you—"

"I said, don't get any ideas. Now, where'd you put the towels?"

Corr didn't answer: he was still trying to adjust to the fact that his servant/friend/crush was sitting on his bed half-naked. At least she was wearing a breast band, he reflected momentarily.

"Corr?" He snapped back to consciousness. "Thank you. Where are the towels?" repeated Joey.

"Under the couch."

"Why'd you put them there?"

"I dunno."

"Oh, never mind." Joey rose to her feet and started to walk. Halfway there, she collapsed, her knees buckling, and hit the floor hard. Corr stared at her and swore vividly.

_Oh, Mithros, please let her be alive._

The thought passed quickly, and Corr scolded himself for being so stupid. Of course she was alive.

He retrieved the mentioned towels and soaked them in the water that was boiling, apparently for tea. Hoping that Joey hadn't put salt or tea leaves in yet, he pressed them to her skin and worked his way around her body. 

Three-quarters of the way done, he met with a bruise. Taking his chances and prodding it, he caused Joey to stir from her unconscious state.

"'Lo, Corr," she whispered.

"Go back to sleep," he said through a tight throat.

"I am."

He tore a towel and bandaged her. After finishing, Joey looked practically presentable, aside from the fact that she also resembled a corpse swathed in white. Corr picked her up gently and sat down on the bed. He stayed like that for a long time, cradling her injured body in strong arms, afraid if he set her down she'd wake up. Besides, it felt nice holding her…

_Okay, Tom, I admit it. I have a horribly huge crush on her._

"Corr?"

She was awake.

"Yeah?"

"I'll stay," she said. "I'll stay."

Joey curled her arms around her neck. He would have suspected her of actually liking him, but then again, she was half asleep. He smiled.

_This feels nice._

_ _

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Is anyone actually paying attention to this story? Well, please review, even if it is horrendously mush. Love ya'll that review (platonically)!

~FireLily


	7. Default Chapter Title

_Carpe Diem_, Part Five

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

[Yes, another time jump. Three weeks later.]

Corr had gotten his—rather, Joey's—report back four days after he had turned it in with a hastily written "Excellent, you have real knowledge of the topic. Perfect!" scrawled at the top in blue ink. Corr was increasingly becoming more amazed at Joey. She was nothing like anything he had expected. Or, as Tom put it—

"You have a crush on her."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. I don't blame you, though. She's an absolute—"

"Tom, you say one word and you are instantly decapitated."

"—ly annoying jerk?"

"Rather."

"You still have a crush on her."

Corr was trying to ignore this accusation—perhaps because he was afraid it was true—and that wasn't so hard, as he had another, more pressing problem:

"Four days."

Corr had walked in on Joey packing and asked her why.

"Four days 'til what?"

"'Til my probation ends. I suppose I won't get kicked out, since you haven't complained."

"You're leaving?"

"Rather obviously. Besides, I have to. It's not going to be easy to convince them to let me stay. Not that I especially want to."

"You don't like me?"

Joey stifled a short laugh:

"Let's see. You're an egotistical, self-driven, independent, annoying, stupid, idiotic, self-satisfied, empty-headed prig…"

"Am I really all that?"

"…Despite that, you do deserve a chance."

"Am I really all that?" repeated Corr.

"Yes," came Joey's short reply. "You are. Maybe you should start losing some of it."

"And end up as…?"

"A person with a servant. And a lover."

"My servant's going to be my lover?"

"Not in this lifetime. I meant that as two different people."

"Oh."

"Disappointed, are we?" Joey's tone was teasing. "Did you want me to be your lover?"

"Did you want me to not be?"

Corr took a tentative step towards Joey. She turned back to her packing. 

"Don't, Corr. Please don't."

Corr stopped. She was right. _Why am I doing this? _he asked himself. _Why am I falling for her?_

"Do I have time to repent for my sins?" inquired Corr, a laughing tone in his voice. Joey smiled, spinning quickly on her heel to face him.

"Four days."

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

"Joey?"

Joey jumped. It was only five in the morning. She didn't expect Corr to be awake for nearly an hour.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Corr said gently.

"For what?"

"For being such a jerk."

"You're not a jerk."

"I'm not?"

"You're just an idiot." Joey poured water into a kettle.

"Thanks," said Corr dryly. "And are you making tea again?"

"No," answered Joey absently. "I'm making a hot water bottle."

"For me?"

"No. For me."

"Oh. Okay. See ya."

"Go to sleep, Corr."

"I will."

+*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+ +*~*+

Ooch. That royally stank. Stunk. Whatever. The next one will be interesting. And romantic! In a way, at least. So long!

~FireLily


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